Brighten the Corner Where You Are

Rainer Klauss

LHS '64

(Editor's Note: After publishing the Band Concert program last week, Rainer reminded me of a story he had submitted years ago about his days in the Lee band. Here is a reprint of that story.)

Now that our Lee High has been razed, and a new version has been raised on the site of the former Woody’s Drive-in, and the statute of limitations has surely run out on my crime, I come forward to confess a sin, a case of petty thievery: I kept a sheet of music from the band’s library and have it to this day.

After the football season of 1962 was over, coming to a feel-good conclusion with three victories, and the band’s half-time performances of creative marching routines had ended, we applied ourselves to another aspect of our band’s entertainment responsibilities. We had demonstrated a facet of that larger purpose with our music-making in the stands during the games, entertaining and firing up the Lee crowd with spirited renditions of such tunes as “Rebel Rouser,” “Alabama Bound,” and the regional anthem of that time, “Dixie.” But once the season of ballyhoo and football clashes had passed, the band buckled down to the serious work of improving as a musical organization. Mr. Foley distributed the new music for the state band competition in Tuscaloosa and, following that, our community showpiece, the spring concert.

Since the Alabama High School Band Competition Festival came in early April, we first concentrated on mastering the compositions that Mr. Foley had chosen from a list provided by the competition’s administrators and judges. Just as in athletic competitions, schools were rated according to the population of their student body. Lee proved to be a special case, however. We were only a quasi-high school for 1962-63, topping out at the eleventh grade—a work in progress. But this status brought no penalty; it merely ranked us in the company of schools like Hanceville High School, Lanett High School, and Andalusia High School, schools from cities far smaller than Huntsville.  In any case, the format for on-stage performances was the same: each band began with a march, and two short concert pieces followed.

April 4, 1963: Alabama-bound, indeed! We had competed in Tuscaloosa the year before, so this wasn’t our first rodeo, but our spirits soared anew for several reasons. Hey, we were taking a bus trip and getting out of town! We were headed for the big time, the demonstration and assessment of our musical skills amongst our peers.  Once we arrived on campus, some of the band members, accompanied by chaperons, explored the campus, knocking off the tension of the affair, having fun, and getting an early look at college life.  I found pleasure by staying in the auditorium, listening to as much of the music as I could. The succession of performances created alternating moods of tension and release. The panoply of differing uniforms was impressive and brought a ceremonial and festive air to the occasion. Yes, we were in a kind of competition, but solidarity reigned, too. We were all involved in this: the pursuit of musical beauty.

The pieces we played that Thursday afternoon were “Manhattan Beach,” one of the well-known marches of John Philip Sousa; “Tamerlane,” a contemporary portrait of a 14th-century despot who hoped to rule the Mongol Empire and the Moslem world.  If you can conjure up the dramatic opening overture of a 1950s cinematic epic, you’ll have an idea of what the music sounded like; and “Mexican Overture,” a medley of traditional melodies.  As we played these disparate compositions, the strengths and weaknesses of our musical skills were revealed. (Our interpretations of the three compositions were later included in the record the band sold to finance its trip to the Orange Bowl Parade late that year).

Mr. Foley shared the rating the judges gave us later that afternoon. We hadn’t expected to win top honors, but we had acquitted ourselves well. Mission accomplished. There followed the joyful bus ride home.

In addition to polishing the numbers for the state competition during our sixth-period band class, we also began readying the pieces that Mr. Foley had selected for our spring concert. Among them was a medley called “Billy Sunday’s Successful Songs.” I didn’t know it at the time, but Billy Sunday was America’s foremost revivalist during the years 1910-1920, renowned for the exuberant, athletic, and colloquial style of his preaching. The “Successful Songs” consisted of seven hymns that had roused Sunday’s audiences, raising the pitch of piety, religious fervor, and fellowship. The hymns were “Since Jesus Came Into My Heart,” “If Your Heart Keeps Right,” “My Wonderful Dream,” ”What A Day of Victory,” “I Walk With the King,” “Brighten the Corner Where You Are,” and “I’m Coming Home.” I’m guessing, but the last hymn was probably sung as some of the attendees made their way to the altar, “hitting the sawdust trail” in their hope for salvation.

Henry Fillmore, a famous musician, composer, and bandmaster of the time, gathered the hymns into a suite, preserving the sounds of the small wind band that would probably have accompanied the impassioned singers throughout the service. The medley was pure Protestant Americana, simple, compelling, and heartfelt—a musical reminder of earlier times. I had been raised as a staid Lutheran and never attended a revival meeting, so this music hit me as a fairly-new experience (even though I had heard my share of turn-of-the-century music before then). Adding to the music’s strong call to me was the fact that the baritone, the instrument I played in the band, had a prominent part in the melodies. Of all the music the band played in the four years I belonged to it, that medley reigned as my favorite. To my thinking, Mr. Foley made an inspired choice.

Now for the rest of the story: the particularities of my misdemeanor and the ensuing events. When the concert season had ended and the school year neared its end, it was customary to return all the music sheets to Mr. Foley. That year I handed everything back to him or his assistants except “Billy Sunday’s Successful Songs.” It’s impossible to defend my skewed motives. I can only say that I loved the music and wanted a tangible reminder. I knew that my baritone-playing days would end with graduation the next year. I probably told myself that if Mr. Foley inquired about the missing sheet, I could always claim that I had taken it home and then give it back to him a few days later. He never asked, but with an avalanche of music to deal with, no wonder he never discovered there was one piece unaccounted for. At the end of the year, the music ended up in my stash of school memorabilia, joining report cards, football programs, copies of The Traveller, newspaper reports of sports events, and my letter “L” for being in the band. My senior year souvenirs would bury the tell-tale sheet even deeper.

And there it remained for many years, forgotten. It was probably shortly after the Internet resurrection of Lee’s Traveller that I examined the old school mementos, connecting with the past and using some of the documents as memory aids for the articles I began contributing. And there I found the treasured music again, but I no longer remembered the melodies.

Using the early Internet search engines such as Altavista, Webcrawler, and Hotbot, I looked for any mention of Fillmore’s suite, but found no trace. Last year, 50 years after playing the piece, I did a search on Google, digging down through several pages of links and there discovered that I had not been alone in my affection for the obscure medley. It had been admired enough by others to be included in a little-known CD of Fillmore’s music. I was able to download a copy of the CD entitled Memories of Uncle Henry for $10; it included a version of “Billy Sunday’s Successful Songs.” Man, sheet music, and music were reunited. The music is still as sweet as it ever was.

I am aware that this is not the kind of revelation one normally makes near the 50th anniversary of one’s high school graduation (2014). But, on the other hand, why not come clean now and illuminate a dark secret? I am aware, too, of the irony of having absconded with a collection of religious music. Mea culpa.

The Wayback Machine

Tommy Towery

LHS '64

I continue to ask Mr. Peabody (a.k.a. Amazon Alexa) to play me a song from 1965 this week and collect your thoughts about the song. So...Mr. Peabody, take us way back. What is the first 1965 song you will play?

"In My Life" is a song by the English rock band the Beatles. It appeared on their 1965 album Rubber Soul. Its lyrics were written primarily by John Lennon, credited to Lennon–McCartney. George Martin contributed the piano solo bridge. According to Lennon, "In My Life" was his "first real major piece of work" because it was the first time he wrote about his own life. In 2000, Mojo named "In My Life" the best song of all time. Rolling Stone ranked it number 23 on its 2004 list of "The 500 Greatest Songs of All Time", and number 98 on the 2021 revised list, as well as fifth on its list of the Beatles' "100 Greatest Songs".

The song was recorded on 18 October 1965, and was complete except for the instrumental bridge. At that time, Lennon had not decided what instrument to use, but he subsequently asked George Martin to play a piano solo, suggesting "something Baroque-sounding"

Editor's Comments: I feel that back in 1965 this song did not have the impact on me that it does 58 years later in 2023. In 1965 I had left Lee and was in my first year of college. I suppose had I been the old man I am today I would have felt different and related more to the words and thoughts behind them. I certainly can relate  to "the places I remember all my life though some have changed, some forever not for better." Lee High School is a perfect example of that, some have gone and some remain. The brick-and-mortar building has gone, but the memories remain. "All these places have their moments, with lovers and friends I still recall." True, so true;  and "some are dead and some remain in my life, I've loved them all." How many of my dear friends I've loved have gone? And how many of us can look back and say "Of all these friends and lovers, there is no one who compares with you." when you think about someone special you knew at Lee? How about the lines that say "And I know I'll never lose affection for people and things that went before."? I know I'll often stop and think about them. And that's the truth!

Since Lee's Traveller caters to the Classes of '64, '65, and '66, this week I have featured a song released in 1965. To make things clearer, though those are the three primary classes, we welcome members of not only other class years, but also of other high schools. This week I have had requests from two classmates to be put on the notification list only to find they are already included in the emails I send out. I have asked those involved to check their spam and junk mail folders to see if something is putting them there instead of their inbox. I think if you add my email address to your contact list it will allow my emails to you to go through and not be rejected.

We have had less participation in the last couple of weeks, but I think everyone is still enjoying the content of each issue, whether they comment on them or not. 

Some More Prom Photos

Craig Bannecke, LHS '65, writes, "Since we were asked about Prom pictures, I just happen to have my Senior Prom photo of Linda Meeler and myself. As CE Winn mentioned, our Prom was also held in the cafeteria and was very well decorated. I remember working on the decorations with others of our '65 class to make the evening a very special occasion. We had some wonderfully creative and talented folks at Lee who always did a good job decorating. Linda was a sophomore (LHS '67) whom I met in study hall my Senior year. We got to know one another, became good friends, and began dating off and on. Linda was an attractive young lady as many of our Lee High girls were and won the Key Clubs first Sweetheart Pageant that year.

  Cecilia LeVan Watson, LHS '68, sent in her prom photo with Luther Click, who graduated from DAR high school in Grant. 

Last Week's Questions, Answers, and Comments

Suzette Yost von Kamp, LJHS ‘58-59, "When I was at Lee and in the band, George Page was the band director.  When did he leave?"

Barbara Bauknecht Brown,  LHS ‘66, "Do you have a picture of the Sweetheart pageant? It was the first one Lee had in '65 or '66."